


An Antenna Pulling in Names, Facts, and Information

by scifichicx



Series: All Those Yesterdays [4]
Category: Minority Report (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifichicx/pseuds/scifichicx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rough, raw look at Arthur's bitterness. </p>
<p>Prelude to a series of moments from Arthur's life out of the milk bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Copper and Bitterness

_Every time he woke up with to the sound of Dash screaming or Agatha sobbing he understood what it was to crave murder. When he was young he didn’t understand- he didn’t get a fucking chance to. Now he understood too much. He understood the gap in his life where the experience of growing up was supposed to be. He understood just how many people couldn’t give a shit about him or his siblings despite the “gift” they were to the world. He understood the bureaucratic shield that kept a kingdom of slave owners safe from justice._

_Agatha was happy to be away from the visions. Dash loved the peace and quiet. Arthur was pissed that no one seemed to mind that they’d been woken up and swept under the rug without so much as a thank you._

_Then again, thank you was a sentiment reserved for the willing._


	2. The Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not long after being taken out of the milk bath, Arthur abruptly realizes he has memories from the chunk of his life that was stolen. This leads him to reassess his negative opinion of Wally.

It took a while for Arthur to realize that he remembered things from the time in the milk bath besides visions of murder. It started with humming a tune to himself and noticing Wally smile. “What?” Arthur growled from the far side of the room, where he’d been half-heartedly tugging on a resistance band. 

Wally turned away from his computer to face Arthur and leaned back in the chair. “I just- I always knew you liked that song.” 

Arthur blinked, brow furrowed, “What?” He repeated. 

Wally leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He hummed a few bars, and then abruptly turned back to the computer. Arthur glowered, touchy about being suddenly ignored. 

But then he heard it, loud and clear from the computer speakers. Wally looked so pleased with himself and usually that got on Arthur’s nerves, but right now he was more engaged with the peculiar and beautiful sensation that this was his. It wasn’t a song someone heard as they bashed their unfaithful lover’s head in, it was a song he knew and he liked.

Arthur’s eyes flicked to Wally’s, wide and lost. This was new. This was strange. What do I do, Wally? What do I do? Something between panic, wonder, and absolute confusion gripped him in the chest. He’d felt this before; a thing called a panic attack. Wally was on his feet and crossing the room while Arthur struggled to calm his rapid breath and force any words out of his locked jaw. His nostrils flared in frustration as tears trespassed his gaunt cheeks. His hands curled and unfurled from fists and the pads of his fingers sucked at suddenly sweat sticky palms. 

Wally took him by the arms, his concern so frustratingly genuine that it made Arthur want to swat him away. He hated when people touched him, but even at his most petulant he couldn’t deny that any contact from Wally put him at ease. He blamed it on conditioning. It was easier to think of it that way, where the world was split neatly in two; with him, Dash, and Agatha on one side and a world of monsters on the other. 

Arthur looked at their caretaker of over a decade and crunched the details like figures in a calculator. He thought Wally was smug and arrogant; a sad man obsessed with three gifted vegetables- in love with one to make it worse. This was a man who considered himself important and certainly more so than anyone else considered him, as though doing his well-paying job somehow made him special. Arthur had watched Wally fight for them and tell people what he thought they needed. He said he cared about them, but didn’t it seem more likely that he cared about the shambles of his career? How many places were looking for a position that was half-IT and half nursemaid? 

Arthur ran through the shrewd details. His weak muscles trembled and fluttered with rage. Yet when Wally pulled him into a hug, compassion radiating from him, the details that made so much sense just didn’t anymore. Arthur stopped fighting for a moment, going weak in the kind of hug that normal kids get from teachers or parents. He felt normal for a moment. His heart and his mind jabbed at each other, but he was so sick of being angry all the time. He was sick of hating someone he loved.


End file.
